


Galahd's Harvest Feast

by Aithilin



Series: NyxNoct Fall-Winter 2019 [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Holiday Meal, M/M, family gathering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:55:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21616105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: Noctis was used to the formality and stiffness of a Lucian family meal. Galahdian traditions were far more welcoming.
Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum/Nyx Ulric
Series: NyxNoct Fall-Winter 2019 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557886
Comments: 6
Kudos: 48





	Galahd's Harvest Feast

“Isn’t it a little late for this?”

The grey and damp of an early winter had already set in across most of Insomnia. Snow had already gathered in the northern districts and by the cold waters of the open eastern seas. The northern winds that froze the red prairies of Cavaugh had already settled over the nearest districts to the border, coiling in pockets of winter weather that seemed to slowly dissipate the further south in the great city someone ventured. Noctis’ own apartment was only just starting to see the delicate trails and traces of morning frost on his windows as the season crept on; though the heavy rains had washed away the threat of lingering snows. 

Nyx, however, lived in a district where the pristine snow had sealed off whole sections of parks and festival grounds. The traffic of the roads had already turned it to a grey, pasty slush clinging to the gutters of salted streets. 

Noctis grumbled beneath his heavy coat as he followed Nyx through the chilled streets. 

“Still warm in the other end of town, little star.” Nyx offered a beaming grin in reassurance; “And it’s tradition.”

“You do remember that most of Lucis celebrates the harvests during the harvests, right? Like a whole month ago. You were there, you ate pie.”

“And Galahdians do it right.”

“They do it with giant fires in parks.”

“Fail to see the difference, kitten.”

Noctis had to admit that Nyx did have a point. Lucian family holidays would be much more interesting if a bonfire was a socially acceptable spectacle. 

It was a harvest festival really. One where— in Galahd— the whole community gathered with the excesses of their harvests. Folding tables borrowed from community centres and rented from every party supply store in the district where overflowing with plates and bowls and platters. Food steamed in the cool November air, the snow cleared from the heat of the already raging bonfire in the centre of all the chaos of a community gathered together to spend a weekend braving the oncoming seasonal changes while the Lucian city that hosted them carried on with soft tuts of disapproval for the timing. 

Noctis relaxed the deeper they went into the crowd. The closer they moved to the heat of the fire and the centre of the community. 

Closer to where Drautos was already pulling long skewers of meat from the edge of the flames. They were handed off to Libertus and Luche to be piled on to those plates and platters already overflowing with home-cooked meals. Crowe wandered around the fire itself, adjusting skewers and pallets propped up with stone barriers to support the still cooking meats. Noctis could swear that there wasn’t an actual salad in sight. 

“Captain,” Nyx greeted, an arm around Noctis as if the urge for every Glaive to snap to attention around them hadn’t just been suppressed with a second of hesitation. 

“Highness,” Drautos returned, acknowledging Noctis first before looking over Nyx. “Ulric, just in time to help.”

A month ago, almost to the day, the Captain had joined them in the Citadel. Noctis remembered the stiff set of his jaw, the thin smile as staff brought out the carefully portioned plates and drinks. As the dark marble and gilded halls glittered in the afternoon autumn sun shining into the royal apartments’ dining room. They had taken a walk in the private gardens, Regis leading the way with Noctis between the gold and crimson leaves while they talked in hushed clusters together. The muted formality of the Lucian holiday a far cry from the jovial community event that was the provincial version of the same event. 

“I didn’t know Cavaugh celebrated the same holiday,” Noctis said as he stepped closer to the fire. The warmth of Nyx’s arm around him no longer needed to fend off the chill as his lover was dragged away by other Glaives to finish off the last of the offerings. 

“It doesn’t,” Drautos answered with a smile Noctis was less familiar with. The open, friendly smile of the man truly at ease. Out of uniform and away from the pressures of the Citadel looming over him. “But my team does, and it’s a family event. Everyone welcomed.”

“Even princes?”

“Even princes.”

The signal was given that the feast was open, and the community descended on the long lines of tables. Noctis lingered back by the fire, where the last of the meats were being perfected; a shower of sparks and crackling embers followed the drips and drizzles of the juices and sprinkled spices. The glazes were brushed on in hurried stroked— a topaz and amber shine beneath the heat. Galahdian harvest colours— vivid reds and golds, bright green sauces and shining glazes— covered the tables in an eclectic festive spirit ready to be torn apart by the gathered people. 

Noctis smiled as Nyx rejoined him, pressing a hot wooden bowl into his hands; “What’s this?”

“Something sweet,” Nyx offered a quick kiss— easily missed in the chaos of the open meal and noise. “What do you think?”

“It’s different, very different.”

“You’re part of the family now, little star.”


End file.
